


Getting Carried Away

by Beeblebrox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Beacon Hills, Friendship, M/M, Pack in College, Post 3a, Pre-Slash, Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beeblebrox/pseuds/Beeblebrox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek isn't doing so hot after being demolished by the bad guys as per usual. Stiles doesn't leave him behind.. as per usual. Blood loss and head wounds lead to an unfiltered conversation about their sort-of bromance.</p><p>Inspired by tags sinyhale posted for a gif of a husky being carried on the back of a dude. I didn't follow it /exactly/ ;..; but here we go!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Carried Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siny/gifts).



Stiles aggressively pressed his cell phone's keypad a few more times for the principle of the matter. His battery was almost out and he was conveniently in a no service area.

Typical.

Of course the sun had mostly disappeared behind the trees of the unknown forest he was in because Beacon Hills always meant one awful thing had to outdo the other. Why couldn't he be called back home for nice things? He supposed he should be thankful that he was, surprisingly enough, relatively unscathed. He was also standing over the bloodied corpses of a couple of shape shifters and Derek Hale.

 _Kidding_. Only the shape shifters were dead. _Probably_ dead. Maybe he should check?

Derek Hale was just _pretending_ to be dead. Seriously.. did the guy ever make it out of a fight without being mopped across the floor? Near death experiences came with the werewolfitory he supposed. But then Derek looked content to kind of sit there and die.

"Are you just going to bleed out on those dandelions? Don't do that, you'll ruin the ecosystem or something. It'll give the plants a werewolf virus that turns Beacon Hills into a screwed up version of _Little Shop of Horrors_... or _The Happening_. Even if no one wants to remember that movie _Happened_."

"Stiles... shut up." Derek said, strained.

"..Sometimes I wonder if you don't have a vocabulary of more than three words." Stiles eyed the werewolf, it had been a while since he'd seen him. In the past few years Stiles would come back from college and Derek would usually be off having werewolf adventures. Even when they were home at the same time they didn't really make an effort to see each other. They were kind of incidental bros, only bro-like when forced into bro-necessary situations or, well, he didn't know. One summer in high school they'd talked a lot. Or a lot compared to how much Derek usually interacted with him.. after that it had kind of been the dark days of Beacon Hills, fighting off beasts attracted to the Nematon. Then he'd sort of had a bout of dealing with darkness around his heart and time really moved fast so now he was a junior in college and had seen Derek maybe a handful of times. Regardless, the werewolf looked the same as ever save for the, you know, gaping claw wounds. The worst were his legs though. They looked.. very broken. If his still bleeding wounds were any indication, he was doing the not-healing thing that had happened to Scott a few years ago.

Stiles tore off the rest of the duct tape that had been hanging off his face and shoved it in his pocket.

 _Why were they in this mess again_?

 _Ah, right_.

Despite the pull of the Nematon winding down conveniently around the time he and his friends graduated high school, creatures of the night would still detour through Beacon Hills from time to time. Sometimes they didn't realize they'd stepped on Hale/McCall territory and decided to cause trouble. Or murder. None of which was acceptable, so if his dad and whoever was in town couldn't handle it they'd call in backup. Stiles wondered how many times he could pull the "family emergency" card before his professors stopped being accommodating.

This time the pack wasn't sure what they were tracking until now. Like, _now_ now because he was staring right at their probably dead bodies. A few ideas were tossed around but Stiles had wondered if they were dealing with some kind of changeling. Murders were being committed in broad daylight by multiple people who would disappear without a trace. There were no consistent suspects from camera feeds or eyewitnesses. Which meant the perps were either being brainwashed to kill people then somehow poof into nonexistence.. or something or someone was changing their look drastically each time.

Shape shifters were in lore, therefore _totally_ viable despite the eyebrow raises he got for mentioning them, so he had hoped to find some sort of perception booster to be able to see their true forms. It was implied that the shifters would assimilate with their prey in a way that would allow them to turn into that person's form. Stiles figured that's where the bodies were going.. or not going. Generally horrifying and disgusting stuff. Texts had no answers as to how to track something like this, so they went back to the basics. If werewovles' eyes flared in photos maybe other creatures' eyes did too.

His father had called in another murder downtown so the pack went to the location and got to work, scanning the crowd and pedestrians with their cell phone cameras. He vaguely remembered getting a text from Scott asking where he went. He had turned down a couple of street corners and was about to respond when a woman turned and looked straight at him and consequently his phone. He wondered how he had accomplished a look of "oh my god my theory at catching the shape shifters worked there is one right there", because the next thing he woke up to was being dragged through the forest. They had to have known who he was. But they didn't do the cliché villain monologue thing so he had no idea what they had planned for him before Derek showed up to duke it out.

And voila, here he was with Sourwolf.

"So this sucks," he huffed, looking over at Derek. What he saw cut the smile off his face. Derek was glassy eyed, wavering a little, and panting. "Derek.. hey, Derek!" Stiles quickly knelt next to him and snapped his fingers near the werewolf's ear.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just.."

"Okay, first of all, keep your eyes open. Can you count how many fingers I'm holding up?"

"Four."

"Good. I guess. I think that was actually a sobriety test. We need to.. we need to get out of here. Find the others. They are coming, right?" Stiles looked around as if the darkened forest would unveil some answer as to what and where and how he would proceed.

"Stiles.. I'm not going to make it-" Derek started quietly.

"Dude you are not dying stop being a drama queen!"

"- _that_ _far_. I can't move, you idiot. You have to go ahead and bring back help." A cold sweat had broken out over Derek's skin. He looked pale and weak and _unable to defend himself_.

"Yeah, right, that's.. that sounds like a great plan." Stiles stood, nodding, and brushed off his legs, "Just leave you here. In the dark. _Alone_. Be back when I find someone, I guess?"

Derek nodded solemnly.

Stiles took a few steps away before turning back, gesticulating violently, "Are you kidding me?! Oh my god, are you the worst at everything on purpose?" Stiles walked purposefully up to Derek and stuck a hand out, "Come on. Get up."

Derek looked one part confused, two parts angry, "I. Can't. Walk."

"You. Won't. Have to." Stiles mocked and shook the hand he was holding out to Derek, eyebrows raised. Derek took it gingerly, and there were only a few quiet moments between them before Stiles swiveled around and lifted the werewolf upwards against his back. Derek gasped loudly in pain.

" _What are you doing_?" Derek grit out.

"Can you jump up?" Stiles asked.

" _No_."

"Alright." Stiles maneuvered Derek's arms over his shoulders before bending down and lifting his legs up around his waist.

Derek let out a noise that sounded like he wanted to say something but couldn't through the pain. He panted a few times before breathing loudly through his nose. He was holding his hands up, probably to keep his fingers from digging into Stiles' skin.

"Do you really need me to tell you why it would be a _horrible_ idea to leave you here? Because if you need to be fed that answer I'll judge you. Harshly."

Derek said nothing.

"You better have just passed out or something because, ugh, _Derek_.. I'm not going to leave you out here. Some more of those assholes could come back or who knows.. maybe you really are bleeding to death. You should at least have some charming company to escort you to the end."

Derek groaned, probably at the prospect of Stiles being the last person he had to listen to before he died.

Stiles smirked at the thought and looked around again. "Uh.. So. Any idea which way to go?" Stiles turned back and forth, hands gripping Derek's thighs. There wasn't much to see, just dark forest bleeding into itself to make it seem endless. "I mean I know you're out of it but if I go the wrong way we're definitely screwed." Stiles could feel his heart speed up a little despite his lighthearted tone. If he chose the wrong direction their chances of survival would plummet. Unless their friends found them by chance...

Derek pointed.

He sighed in relief and repositioned his grip, jostling Derek a bit, and moved forward, tip-toeing over a few probably dead bodies along the way.

However, a few minutes of Stiles being a _less-than-steady_ ride inspired Derek to speak, "I'm going to bleed out faster on your back. This is stupid."

"No, stupid is leaving you wafting death into the air in the middle of an evil creature ridden forest like ribs cooking on a frat house's barbeque."

"We're miles out, you're going to waste too much energy this way. You have a better chance if-" He sounded genuine and a little fevered but Stiles cut him off anyway.

"Your faith in me is compelling. Look dude this is happening. You're not that heavy, get over it. On to more important things: where is everyone else?"

Derek hesitated. "We split up to cover more ground."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Because _that's_ always a good idea."

"Tell that to you a few hours ago." Stiles felt his cheeks warm but stuck his nose in the air. "The shifters.. they used your scent against us. There were a few different directions they could have taken you." Stiles felt Derek pant in pain against the back of his neck, so he let him off the hook. _For now_.

When he felt Derek begin to nod off a while later though, he started to talk to keep him awake... and talk _and talk_.  Stiles had stamina but he could feel his muscles burning already. The worst thing he could do was stop, so he didn't even entertain the thought.

When there was a lull Derek shifted and said quietly, "You're stronger than you look."

"Yeah, well, underestimated should probably be my middle name." He shrugged, which made Derek shift again.

"I don't know why people do that."

"Why people underestimate people? Yeah I don't know either, what's the saying? Assuming makes an ass out of you and--"

"Why they underestimate _you_."

Stiles didn't miss a beat, "It's the age thing. And the spaz thing. And the motor mouth thing. I mean the list could go on." He said wryly. "Though I don't get that as much now, my professors actually _appreciate_ my digressions." He finished airily.

Derek shifted again and Stiles suddenly realized he was fidgeting.

"Would you just..." Stiles didn't know how to word it so he shrugged in a way that pulled Derek flush against his back. " _Relax_. You're making it worse on yourself and me by tensing up. I'll tell you if you're holding on too tight if that's what you're worried about."

Derek hesitated but eventually relaxed. "You always do this." He mumbled.

"What?"

He was answered with silence.

-

Stiles felt himself begin to waver, which jogged the realization that he did actually have a head wound from being knocked out. So the combination of extreme exertion and head trauma was maybe bad. He just felt a little light headed, and his arms and legs sort of lost feeling fifteen minutes ago. Not that he really had any concept of time at this point. He was sweaty and gross and tripping more often but he kept on keepin' on. To his concern though he realized he'd allowed Derek to fall asleep. When did he do that?

"What do I always do though?"

Derek sniffed, "Hm?"

"Earlier, you said _you always do this_." He lowered his voice, trying his best impression of a solemn Sourwolf. He didn't actually expect Derek to humor him with an answer, if and when they spoke it was always about research and lore. But the way Derek sighed it seemed like blood loss really did weaken a person's boundaries.

"You always help... people."

Stiles snorted, "That's it?"

He seemed to be searching for the right thing to say. "Not everyone does that."

Derek said it with such a weight that Stiles couldn't help but laugh, "Are you kidding me? That's kind of a thing with people, they help each other out--nothing special. Doesn't make me a.." Stiles blinked and swallowed down the word _hero_ , an echo of he and his father's conversation suddenly making the current one a little more substantial. "Just doing the right thing. I mean obviously I had to learn it somewhere. The Stilinskis are a long line of badass good Samaritans. And you've met Scott and, like, firemen. I mean I know some people freeze up or run away in crazy situations, but there's almost always someone who comes through."

"In certain situations, yeah. But there are not as many people like you as you seem to think." Derek seemed almost petulant.

"I get the feeling you're basing this off of your own terrible experiences."

"And what are you doing?"

"Look, I guess it doesn't matter because you were just pointing out my propensity for saving your ass all the time. I get it, _I'm awesome_. I just get twitchy when that sort of thing is blown out of proportion."

"How am I blowing this out of proportion? Stiles, I'm trying to--"

"Are you about to break some level of guy code with your emotions? I don't think I could handle that-"

"If you would shut up for a second-"

"Nope, I won't aid and abet such-"

"I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you! I don't think I've really ever thanked you for.. everything."

When Stiles felt words of deflection bubbling up once again he started to realize he might actually have a complex against this sort of conversation. "Nothing you haven't done for me. And like I said, anyone of us would do it. Pretty sure Scott has saved you before."

"No, that's what I'm trying to say. Scott always tries to do the right thing in every situation, but you were the only one that ever really gave a shit about me. You helped, stayed back for me, made sure I got out alright. You _thought_ about me. And now you're literally carrying me on your back Stiles."

Derek sighed.

 _Huh_.

To that..

..Stiles had a very bizarre reaction.

Tears rose, not blurring his vision just burning. He made it a good half minute before he wasn't able to move forward anymore. He just stopped, legs feeling weak. _Damn, he wasn't supposed to stop because then he wouldn't be able to go on anymore_. He was a little dazed and Derek's presence on his back suddenly weighed a literal ton. He wondered why he wasn't annoyed that Derek had to go and say something like that. That he pulled out the _my life has been a tragedy and even thinking about it makes anyone miserable_ card. Maybe he should let the moment go with some well placed humor. Derek was being abnormally open but he doubted he would push the matter if Stiles steered them away from it.

And yet..

"Is it that much of a foreign concept to you? You're always sacrificing yourself for people.. it's like you _want_ to die." For some reason instead of repelling him the statement made Derek's grip tighten. "You have a screwed up sense of duty, man. Maybe it's a werewolf thing and your instincts are just a tad overzealous, whatever. That's not the point. The point is I'm sure you can understand why I help you because you're worse about it than I am."

"That's different, I have a very specific responsibility and I'm not human. I don't get hurt as easily."

"You get hurt _all the time_. Not just physically either, don't think I don't notice. And do I not have the same responsibility? Am I not in the same pack?"

Derek seemed surprised, "No--I mean _yes,_ you are pack. That's not... you didn't know you were in the pack before. I mean, when we first met and you kept helping me. God, I was just trying to say thank you, not get in an argument." Derek fussed, moving around with not much place to go. "Is this how you escort people to their death?"

Ah, the attempted humorous diversion. Unfortunately for Derek it was too late, Stiles was intrigued and annoyed. A potent combination. "You wouldn't be dying if you had just called everyone before you found me. I think you might actually be certifiable, or just a complete moron."

Derek growled, "If I was too late you would be dead."

Stiles sneered and leaned Derek against a tree, angling so he knew to get down. He wasn't going anywhere anyway, he could feel his limbs about to give out. "You lucked out again, sure." He turned to face him, leaning his hand above Derek's shoulder to keep himself from falling. "What good is being timely if you get killed next time? Then both of us will be dead!"

"I made a choice, it was obviously the right one." Derek was better at the intimidation while impaired thing than Stiles was.

"Just because you lived doesn't make it the right one! And that's not even the point, oh my god." Stiles wavered, the fever of anger making it hard to see straight.

"When did this turn into a point anyway? These are life or death situations, I'm willing to put the former on the line to prevent the latter." Derek said sternly.

"Is it your ego? Some sort of martyr complex? _Die first, regret dying later_ isn't a saying for a _reason_ dude."

"Am I dead?"

Stiles groaned, "You know what I mean!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean stop trying to sacrifice yourself like your death will mean more than you living!" He didn't realize how loud they'd gotten until the last of what he said rang in his ears. They were nearly nose to nose, both panting in anger. Stiles was the first to pull away, wiping at his mouth and looking to the side.

"Stiles.."

"What?" When Derek didn't continue he turned to see the werewolf's hand held out, signal to pick him up and start moving again. Signal to stop the conversation while they still could. Stiles shook his head, "No, we've gotten this far, I want to know something."

"Okay."

Stiles attempted to look demanding, "Are you ever going to stop beating yourself up about the past? That's why you do this, right? Over some stupid need to make up for your _past transgressions_ or whatever bullshit. In the moments that you're risking your life you undergo a feeling of _rightness_ , don't you?" He spat.

Derek looked at him warily for a long time, "Why does this matter?"

"How is that even a question? We can't just sit around pretending like you don't keep trying to throw your life away for the delusion of the greater good."

"Sometimes hard decisions have to be made. My experiences have me more prone to choosing the dangerous ones, but that doesn't change the fact that it's often necessary."

"No, don't make it into something normal!"

"You're treating this like we are all humans, we're not." God, Derek was starting to sound like he was chiding a child.

"This is different, you have a problem." And maybe he was acting like a child.

"Is it? I don't think anyone else feels the same way you.. do..." Derek trailed off, eyes widening.

"Just answer the question." Stiles crossed his arms.

"No, I won't stop. It's too much to just move on from." He seemed to decide upon something and leaned his head against the tree, still looking at Stiles, "That's not the only reason I feel a sense of duty, though."

"Oh, you aren't actually one dimensional? I couldn't tell."

"Is there a reason you're being a dick about this?"

Stiles sputtered, "Tell me, what other blinding reason do you have that makes you jump into situations with zero plan other than _fight_?"

"I care about you."

Stiles blinked. And blinked again. Derek probably meant you as in "all of you", but the flips his heart were doing meant his mind jumped to the other conclusion. You as in Stiles as in, "Uh?"

"You look pale." Derek's eyes glinted.

"You're.. screwing with me aren't you?" Stiles swallowed.

"No. I have a question too." Derek was speaking aggressively but not oppressively. He was intrigued or excited.. or some other emotion Stiles had never seen on him.

Stiles let out a sound that was close enough to an affirmative that Derek continued.

"Why do you always help me?" Derek asked cautiously.

Stiles couldn't quite find any loopholes to the question, probably because he was feeling pretty out of it by now, so he just answered honestly, "You're important." _To the cause, to the pack._ Any of those additions would have made that statement more appropriate but that's all that came out of his mouth.

He saw Derek's face contort to some other emotion he'd never seen. Only he couldn't really make it out because it was getting more and more blurry and.. _oh, great_. He passed out.

-

Stiles woke up warm and fuzzy to the sounds of a voice murmuring and people calling out. Memories flooded into his mind of his father carrying him through the park, kids playing and laughing in the distance. It was nice. Only the more he woke up the more he remembered he wasn't a kid anymore and the people calling out sounded frantic.

"Stiles?" Oh, that was Derek's voice vibrating through him. Right. Kidnapped, Derek, _things_..

"Wait a minute," Stiles slurred, "How are you carrying me on your back? You weren't healing."

Seconds before Scott and Isaac came crashing through the foliage Derek shrugged, speaking lowly, "It must have been something you said."

"Stiles!" Scott shouted urgently. He and Isaac barreled towards them, only stopping a few feet away because including Derek in a bear hug wasn't yet tested as safe, he imagined. They were heaving, eyes wild but relieved. "Is he okay?" Scott was looking at Derek now.

"Can you stand?" Derek asked Stiles.

Stiles was tired and woozy, muscles burning from carrying Derek, but he wasn't out for the count. He pulled his legs out of Derek's grip and slid the short distance down his body, placing his feet gingerly on the ground. As soon as he separated himself from Derek Scott had him in a tight hug.

"Isaac call the Sheriff and tell him to call off the search party." Isaac nodded seriously and stepped off to the side.

"I thought we said never to involve other people, it could get them hurt." Stiles was trying to pull away to look at Scott sternly, but his friend wasn't having it.

"When it comes to the people we care about I think all those rules sort of fly out the window, you know? You were gone for a while, we knew there wasn't much time before.."

Stiles felt his breath catch in his throat, his and Derek's conversation crashing like a gong in his mind.

_I don't think anyone else thinks about it the way you.. do.._

_I care about you._

_You're important._

He looked for the older werewolf and saw him walking away and talking lowly with Isaac. "Ah, right, yeah. That reminds me, we need a buddy system or something. Can we all promise not to split up from now on?"

Scott laughed, "I think it's just you who should be promising that, and maybe _apologizing_."

"Hey, sources tell me you guys did the same thing when you came looking for me. Derek almost died fighting by himself, the idiot."

Scott pulled back, confused and a little guilty looking, "Uh, actually.. it was Derek who went off by himself. We were following one of the scent trails and he was pissed because he didn't think it was the right one and left.. we should have listened.."

 _Things_ flooded into Stiles' heart and mind, but for now he defaulted to humor, "We've been friends for how long and you couldn't tell which scent to follow? I'm hurt dude, maybe you should take a couple of my dirty socks and underwear to refresh your pallet."

"Ugh! Pass!"

Stiles wanted to stay back to check the bodies but they all looked at him sternly with concern and he was promptly driven by Scott to Melissa for a checkup. Derek stayed back to show Isaac and the Sheriff, who soon showed up, the bodies. Incoming texts from Isaac informed them they found papers indicating that the entire group of shape shifters was accounted for. Their cover, or maybe even actual day job, was apparently a shitty Kansas tribute band traveling the country. They would have to keep an eye out for any groupies that might have been with them, but for now they considered the case closed.

So when Stiles was cleared as healthy and took a night to sleep everything off, he was faced with a few options. Technically since he had asked for the rest of the week he had a couple more days to kill. Either stick around and hang out with everyone or get back to school and keep on his teachers' good sides.

He drummed his fingers on his phone, staring at the message draft on the screen. _Hey_ , it said. Which didn't _seem_ substantial but as texts went it totally was, _don't judge me_. Yes he was telling himself not to judge himself, whatever, he wasn't crazy he was just a little nervous. _And why would he be nervous_?

"Ugh, oh my god who cares." He said, and pressed send with (false) bravado.

 _Message sent to Sourwolf_.

Stiles found it was possible to go pale and blush at the same time.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the [post](http://sinyhale.tumblr.com/post/65092571359) ^__^


End file.
